| Trial By Combat |
| Summary: | While the Champion of House Nayland has been chosen in advance, the question of who will be the Defender of the convict Rafferdy Nayland is met with three possible candidates. A choice is made, surprising to some. And Rafferdy's fate is finally decided. |
| Date: | 09/11/2012 |
| Related Logs: | Casting A Champion and others… |
| Players: |
                     |
| Fortress of the Sevens |
|---|
| The interior courtyard appears to be clearly dedicated to the training fields of various knights and men-at-arms with well-tread grounds no longer capable of growing any sort of vegetation. Unlike most courts, there is very little in the way of welcoming floral gardens or sculpted statues as the it seems to favor a far more austere dedication to functionality and purpose than playing to asthetics. Several wooden benches that have seen far better days line the perimeter of the training field - most with more than several months' growth of moss upon the underside - to offer a momentary reprieve for any wishing to watch those at work. Heavy stone walls enclose the perimeter of the field while a path of overgrown weeds and mossy stone line the way towards the inner workings of the keep at large. |
| November 9th 289 |
Mid-afternoon and still the skies always seem to have a slightly overcast look about them in the Mire. It is clear that Sevens Isle is not quite used to so many visitors as the docks and ferry are tired and more than a little rundown. Most of the servants of House Nayland have tried their best to break out the hospitality - what meager offerings there are in the token creaking benches. At least the Training Field has been cleared of normal practice gear to allow for a clean field of combat as a slightly raised dais has been set upon the end with a chair holding the incredibly aged figure of Ser Rickart Nayland, Lord of the Mire himself.
Flanked by two large guards and an attendant ready with that endless pitcher of Bitter Mire Ale, Rickart already appears to be well into his tankards from the blood-shot rim of his eyes to the solid stench of booze which wafts in the air around him. A tall spidery Septon stands with a look of utter disdain near the front of the make-shift dais, features pinched and clearly displeased with everything around him. Letting out a rather loud belch, Rickart thrusts his tankard out with gregarious swing of the arm to the Beer-servant, "Fill it the fuck up and keep it coming," his attentions reaching out to take note of the various arrivals as they begin to filter on in.
Tyroan gives the refilled tankard a jealous look from where he stands in the same area as — but not beside — the septon. The law is thirsty work, but the bald-headed Nayland brother has refrained from partaking in the bitter brew himself, in deference to his duties in the Trial. He had the Accused's armorr delivered to him, and has his shield and sword waiting up at the foot of the dais if he chooses to fight for himself or cannot find a champion. He growls over to a nearby guard, "Let's get this whole fucking mess underway. Bring out Lord Rafferdy." At least those words are kept quiet so that the profanity is not broadcast around the entire group. Best behavior. Right. The Steward of Stonebridge presses his right fist into his left palm, popping each knuckle in turn.
Anathema Nayland — Witch of Stonebridge, Wife of the Steward — sits as a tall vision in dark crimson and a crown of wild hair amidst her children. Her youngest girl, now more of a woman herself than a child, huddles against her mother's side with a worried line in her usual smooth brow and her dark eyes looking warily at her well-oiled uncle. An old rib-bone is rubbed between Anathema's fingers over and over again, feeling the familiar divots and smooth edges. She glances toward her husband as he stands with the Septon and his brother, though her expression gives nothing away.
Tasked by his father, Leslyn Haigh, to attend the trial by combat Perrin has dutifuly shown up. He makes his way to the Courtyard, gives the benches a single, brief, glance and decides to move between them and stand with his arms crossed across his chest. Head held high, a rather stern look upon on his face, he watches Rickart as he demands another ale. No emotion shows, only that same stern look that's fixed it would seem. When the Steward calls for Lord Rafferdy, Perrin does turn his head slightly, looking for the man.
In an unusual turn of events, Aleister and a couple of his men had decided to make their way to the Mire, to bare witness to the Trial by Combat first hand and to see what the outcome of such a thing would be. Clad in gleaming armor, masked only by the fall of a cloak over his shoulders, he's chosen not to seat himself on the benches, but rather, to stand near to the field and off to one side, arms crossed over his chest. His gaze flits amongst those that begin to gather, though when they come to rest upon Rickart, it's with a slight shake of his head before he's looking to Tyroan as Rafferdy is summoned out.
Freya Caul follows her leige Lord Perrin into the training yard looking about like a startled mouse. This was unfamiliar territory for her in unfamiliar attire. She is wearing a blue gown that mathces her eyes -of a higher quality than any clothing she usually wears. Meekly - her eyes to the ground she walks three steps behind Perrin. Seen but not heard.
Daryl is currently in the process of making his way through the group gathered to find a suitable spot. The Ashwood takes a moment to look up and around him. Grey, creaky and practical. "Fitting," he decides out loud, before something else catches his interest. A servant with booze. He makes his way over to fetch himself a mug, before his attention is focused on the dais. Moving to find a better spot, he too finds himself between benches, standing near Aleister and the other Ashwoods. Rather than fold his arms he lifts the mug to his lips, nonchalantly paying attention.
Aeron is somewhere about, sitting on one of the many benches littered about the sept. Coming along with the rest of his family, it was certainly more than an obligation to be present, even if it's only to simply show solidarity with the rest of his immediate clan and the decisions that have thus led them to this point. But, being just another attendee doesn't really give him much lattitude, so he's just going to lounge in his seat. At least until the bloodletting starts.
Seated beside his brother, Renholdt appears to be making quiet conversation with Aeron, hands gesturing to accompany his words. Something he says causes him to bark a laugh, tossing back his head and slapping his knee. "And so I told him…" The words become too quiet to overhear as he leans in to finish the story before nudging Aeron's arm. With his left hand he fishes out his flask and offers it to his brother silently.
Staying a bit back at the moment, behind the benches and such, Ser Karel Stenhammar has positioned himself for the moment. He's got the cloak that he wore on the road down here on, mostly obscuring that he's wearing his armor underneath it. Keeping silent as he keeps his attention on the happenings for the moment, expression a bit solemn now.
Rafferdy is led out, escorted by two guards, one on each side of him. He looks tired, dark circles found beneath his eyes, his hair a bit messy and unkempt. He stands tall, however, and is silent as he's marched out into the courtyard. He looks through the crowd, eyes seeking someone. Once he finds them, he looks forward again and keeps his eyes on his father.
There's a light snicker from Aeron grinning at whatever it was that Ren said lowly. "You didn't." he notes, eyeballing him then the people nearby. "And he -fell- for it?" the younger one asks, taking the flask that offered. "I know some of your friends were gullible, Ren, but I didn't think that much." There's a moment of consideration while he drinks. "Did anything happen afterwards?"
Aralima moves from her previous bench with her handmaids and finds a place to sit with the nobles, once again the Frey lady shakes out her skirts, and settles into a bench, her hands folding delicately on her lap.
Tyroan nods sharply as Rafferdy arrives, stepping up to the center of the dias, and then a pace off to one side, so that Rickart can still take center-stage. The aging Steward raises his growling voice then, not bothering to call for attention first, but trusting that his leathery lungs will see people quiet after the first few words, "In the name of Lord Ser Rickart Nayland, Lord of Hag's Mire and of House Nayland, we are here to determine the guilt of Lord Rafferdy Nayland. The charge is betrayal of House Nayland in the form of giving false information to the defenders of Stonebridge, to the detriment of their defense of that holding." He lets that sink in, pausing a moment, and then calls out, "Who here stands for House Nayland, and who will stand for Lord Rafferdy?"
Rafferdy listens as his charges are decried, but his eyes remain intensely locked on Rickarts. He just stares at his father, face emotionless.
Tankard refilled, the Lord of the Mire wastes no time in downing another chug or two of the bitter brew. For all his efforts, Rickart tries his best to maintain some of his gregariousness - yet even the best efforts seem to fall flat. "Fuck me sideways, would you look at this? Sevens be damned what a turnout." He guffaws loudly followed by another resounding belch.
A cloaked figure slips on in amid a few of the commoners and lingers on near some of the commoners, watching the proceedings in silence.
Perrin gives a glance behind him, checking on the two armsmen that have accompanied him as well as Freya Caul. The two men get neither a nod or a word and they remain as much as Perrin does - stern faced. But it's too Freya that his eyes linger, he takes a half step back and leans his head to her's "Keep your head up. This is the Kings Law and so we shall witness it, properly. That is why we are here." That said he takes his original position once again, that look that was fixed before returns and seems to lock into place as his head is held high once more. The cloak he wears, one that he seem particularly fond of, hangs easily upon him. Made for him by the way it hangs on his body. But open. No armor does he wear, but there at his side his sword. Now and then as he shifts the hilt catches the light of the sun before releasing it in a gleeming dance of light that is cast outwards.
His expression doesn't change, as he listens for now, studying the accused rather carefully. As he hears the charges have been read, and at the question about who it is that stands for House Nayland, Karel speaks up. "I will stand for House Nayland, m'lord." Voice firm, words loud enough for the gathered to hear as he steps forward now.
Freya looks about nervously - tactful enough not to flash her Lord a smile in the midst of this grim business she instead nods her head with its mop of goldspun hair. "Sorry Mi'Lord," she says and corrects her posture gazing evenly around the crowd and mirroring Lord Perrins steps. Always just a few behind him as befitting a retainer.
Somewhere beside Hoekenn who is sitting on the Commoner's bench stands a Stonebridge Guardsman whose father served as a guard at the Mire. Hareth glances to Karel, the Captain of the Guard of Stonebridge standing behind the benches, then to Rafferdy and his blue eyes narrow slightly as he eyes the supposed traitor who will receive his trial today. As Tyroan raises his voice to start the trial, Hareth listens intently, his hands clenched to fists and the expression on his face hardening as he eyes the traitor again. Although Karel's announcement that he will be the Champion for House Nayland does not take Hareth that much by surprise, obviously. He turns to the squire, nodding to him with an assuring smile. "Your father will be alright, Master Hoekenn. He is an excellent fighter."
Aelinor totally arrives at some point, probably with Daryl. A right and proper smile is given to people. At Daryl's his she turns her attention from mumbling with her maid, likely trying to make the woman find a proper seat for them. OVer to Daryl Aelinor moves and tucks her arm though his so he stops worrying so much.
Along with the Ashwoods, there's a new one. Tiaryn Ashwood, along with her husband, and perhaps a guard or two, a maid and who knows who else, is not far behind Daryl. She takes a seat quietly behind Daryl and Aelinor, smoothing her skirts, and glances around. As things get started, her blue eyes are brought front and center to the Naylands as they speak.
As the call for any seeking to stand as defender for Rafferdy is called, a few of the guards look about as if in wait. Even the Septon's expression pinches a little bit further, near non-existent lips pressing tighter. The cloaked figure hangs back a little - watching and waiting. Karel's declaration is given a moment of note before the figure finally relents and lets out a pointed sigh as he steps forward, "Ser Riordan of House Nayland to defend Lord Rafferdy." Even so he draws back his cloak and shoots his younger brother a faint smile.
If there is one thing that can kill Rickart's nice buzz, it is the sound of yet another of his sons rising up to defend the younger. The Lord of Mire's face bursts into a vibrant red as he literally spews out the nice chug of ale that was well upon its way to finding a home within his gullet to shower those within close proximity, "Fucking kids."
As the charges come to be laid out, Aleister offers just the hint of a grunt and his attention shifts to the crowd, waiting and watching. When Karel steps forth on behalf of House Nayland, he's regarding the man for a moment before his attention shifts back to the crowd .. waiting to see just who steps forward on behalf of Rafferdy. When Riordan reveals himself and makes his claim, there's a flicker of his lips to a smirk and a shake of his head. It's then that he's stepping forward, voice lifting to be heard above the din of the crowd, even as a hand lifts to motion to the figure of Riordan, "He's the one who should be on trial here, for offering the gravest of offenses. Were it not for him, we would not be here today." As that is said, his attention shifts over in the direction of Rickart, the smirk deepening a touch upon his lips, "Lord Rafferdy let himself be led by his heart. There is no denying it was a foolish and stupid move, but he has more balls then any of his brothers." A faint pause, enough for him to look about the ones seated on the dias, "Lord Ser Aleister of House Ashwood will stand for Lord Rafferdy, if he so chooses."
Tyroan nods to Karel, glancing back to Rickart only long enough to get tacic approval, then nodding to Karel and raising his voice, "Ser Karel Stenhammar, Captain of the Guard for the holding of Stonebridge will champion House Nayland." And then there is silence. Riordan's appearance and announcement does not have quite so obvious an effect on Rickart's younger brother, but his eyes narrow, his face hardening. And then Aleister speaks up as well, and the steely gaze whips over in that direction. It's not quite possible to hear the man's teeth grind, but it's damned close. Drawing in a breath that stills a snarl before it can be born, he raises his voice again, "Two noble knights have offered to defend you, Lord Rafferdy. Do you want one of them, or will you be your own champion?"
If Anathema Nayland is surprised by her older nephew stepping forth as champion, she does not show it. Though her gaze does slide toward the Ashwood Lord as he steps forward, and her mouth tightens considerably. She leans toward her sons and says something stern to them, her gaze not daring to leave Aleister as she does. She straightens up a bit from the terse whisper, nodding to her sons. Then she turns that Northern gaze back out toward Karel. Still, she rubs her thumb over and over that rib-bone, and the fragment begins to grow warm in her grip.
<COMBAT> Karel has joined the combat as a soldier on team 1.
Hoekenn looks towards both of the men standing up to defend Rafferdy. Studying them for a long while before looking over to his father. Finally resting the gaze on Rafferdy. To hear his decision.
Tia blinks, her gaze moving incredulously to Aleister at his words. "Oh, gods," she says softly, though what she's praying for, or to which gods, is perhaps better left unsaid. She clasps her hands in front of her, and Saeth puts an arm around her, from where he sits beside her.
"Well. This certainly just got interesting." Daryl speaks, the smallest of smirks rising on his countenance as he observes the Nayland's reactions. A look to Aelinor, "Feel the tension? You could cut it with a knife." Then the Ashwood takes a moment to look back towards Tiaryn and her husband with a nod of acknowledgement. "Worry not." He spins his head to look towards Aleister then. Despite calm demeanor, he puts away his mug of drink in one fell swoop, quickly motioning for another.
He continues to watch the actions of brothers and father. Still no emotion shows on Perrin. Then as Lord Ser Aleister steps up and speaks, a single brow raises. A nearly silent "Interesting" escapes him before he can clamp his jaw shut to stiffle any more that may be said. He cuts his eyes to the Dias and mostly to Rafferdy. But he does note the reaction of Tyroan and some of the other Naylands that is in his view. He gives Freya another glance, checking on her perhaps and then to his armsmen. The elder of the two stares intently at him. Some silent communication they have perfected over the years. The second born Haigh dips his head ever so slightly before he turns back to the dias, watching and waiting.
Renholdt leans to the side a bit, knowing beforehand that as the events being to unfold his mother is going to have quite a bit to say about them. He listens quietly, expression carefully neutral as his gaze shifts from Tyroan to Aleister and then to Rafferdy. After a moment, he presses his lips together in a grim expression that echoes Anathema's, granting for just a moment the startling impression of a son who is much more like his mother than expected. He exchanges a glance with Aeron and shakes his head slightly before turning to stare intently at his father.
Karel calmly listens as he hears Riordan's words, studying the man a bit carefully for the moment. Aleister's declaration makes him pause a bit more, and he looks over at the Ashwood Lord, watching the man rather carefully for the moment, then turns to look over at Rafferdy as well, waiting for the man's answer.
In comparison, Aeron looks disturbingly calm, as if the events that have transpiried or the thing that're being said were less surprising than they were expected. Maybe not by the people themselves in particular, but somebody was going to stand up on Rafferdy's side. Just a matter of determining who. Riordan's appearence does get a mild eyeroll out of him, but he leans back when Anathema whispers to him and Ren, the younger son's response being little more than a nod suggesting acknowlegment. But, all in all, very much at ease.
Aelinor lifts her eyes towards Aleister as he speaks up. There she studies a moment but she shows no real reaction to it, save for a bit of a fade to her smile. THen bac to Daryl, "Indeed." she agrees, tucking her arm a little more into his just in case bad things happen. Back towards Tiaryn and her husband Aelinor looks and offers her a bright grin.
Freya frowns deeply at the sudden twists in the proceedings. When Perrin looks at her she gives him a look which suggests she is asking 'Is this usual?" Other than that she is once again the silent spectator.
Not being the one who usually shows his sentiments openly, Hareth shakes his head in incredulous wonder as he sees and hears the former Steward of Stonebridge making his offer to fight for the traitor. Tis a good-natured wonder though, that turns into hardly contained contempt as the newly renamed Charlton Lord takes the stage. And the Stonebridge guard shows that contempt very openly by muttering something about "Charlton scum", his right fist clenched again while his left hand rests on the pommel of his sword.
If looks could kill, Riordan's glare at Aleister makes no motion to hide the contempt he feels for the Lord of Highfield when the outsider rises in defense of his own brother, "Why, so you kill more Nayland loyals?" He smirks with a snide curl of his lips and looks back to Rafferdy to await his brother's decision.
Aralima merely sits in her seat watching, when Riordan steps forward to be a champion, the Frey woman's maids lean forward to chitter in her ear speaking softly and both at once. Lima merely raises a hand to them and they sit back and blush a little their eyes casting downwards. Giving a tiny nod the Lady folds her hands back in her lap, perhaps gripping at her skirt a little.
Rafferdy isn't surprised when Riordan steps forward, and even as his brother tosses him the smile, Rafferdy glances his way and shakes his head. And then the unexpected happens, Aleister offers himself. Rafferdy is clearly surprised, and he turns to regard the knight. Suddenly, the noble isn't so sure of himself. He swallows, studying Aleister carefully. He looks back at his father then, clearly in debate. Rafferdy's a soldier, but his prowess is the bow, not man to man. Aleister would clearly be the best choice. But does one trust the man… He looks at Aleister once more. He furrows his brow, considering his options carefully before turning to face Tyroan. "I had intended to stand for myself…" He looks back at Aleister again. A final considering going on, before looking back once more at Tyroan. "But if the Seven see fit to bless me with honorable knights who would stand for me, then I would be a fool to not allow a knight act as Defender." He nods then, "In the interests of newfound piece between new Lords and old," he says of the Naylands and the Ashwoods, "I shall entrust my defense to Ser Aleister Ashwood." He looks at Riordan, and then returns his gaze to his father.
Tyroan waits for the choice of the Accused's champion to play out with flat steel-grey eyes. When Rafferdy makes his choice, he announces in a carefully-controlled voice, "The Accused, Lord Rafferdy Nayland, will be Championed by Lord Ser Aleister Ashwood." Iron control keeps all but the faintest hint of a snarl out of his words. He beckons both Aleister and Karel to the foot of the dais, "Choose your weapons, Sers, and then advance to bear the blessing of the Seven."
Promptly following Riordan's question, Daryl Ashwood mutters, "Hopefully." As Aleister is chosen, his jaw clenches, mixed with a determined sort of smirk. A hand reaches around and squeezes Aelinor's arm lightly, reassuringly. As his second mug is brought, he starts to pick up the pace of his drinking. When its lowered, he exhales lightly and looks towards the Nayland champion.
Ever so briefly Perrin turns his head again to Freya "Unusual? More like … interesting," he says softly so that only she and those very close by may possibly hear. Turning back he hears the murmers from those around him as well as some of the more outspoken words. Quick glances place a face to words. His attention returns to Rafferdy, tough decisons to make. But make them Rafferdy does and for a beat or two of time there is a half smile upon Perrin as he hears the choice that has been made. But only a beat or two as the rather grim visage returns once more.
A cluck of Aleister's tongue comes as Riordan tries to bait him with that barb and his response is nothing more then a flit of his gaze to the other Knight, a flash of a smirk and a quick, "Hasn't that mouth of yours gotten you in enough trouble, Ser Riordan?" Then, he's looking to Rafferdy and when the choice is made, there's a simple incline of his head before the Ashwood Lord is looking to Tyroan. Listening to the man, there's another nod and then he's turning back towards the small group of his men. The cloak is pulled from his shoulders and tossed to one of them, while another of the men extends the two handed mace, which is hefted in his left hand and then settled upon his shoulders. It's only then that he's turning back towards the dias and striding forward to stand before it.
<COMBAT> Aleister has joined the combat as a soldier on team 1.
As Rafferdy chooses the Lord Ashwood, Anathema's eyes narrow slightly. "I've forgotten how cowardly the Riverlanders are," she bristles. "Calling upon a wolf to defend a lamb against a sheep." The Northern woman elevates her chin a bit, folding her fist tightly around that hot rib bone. "Coward," she punctuates under breath toward her sons over the dark hair of her daughter, Merida neatly squeezed between them. If she pitied her nephew, that pity has frozen in those dark eyes.
Freya is once again frozen in disbelief at the venemous exchanges between the nobility. Wide blue eyes regard each of the Naylands in turn as venemous remarks are exchanged. "And these people are family?" she whispers within earshot of perhaps only Perrin.
Tia smiles back at Daryl when he looks at her, nodding her head. She might be insane, but she /likes/ Aleister, of all things. He's been good to her. She leans against Saeth for a moment, and then sits up straight, watching the events as they unfold.
It takes all of Riordan's composure not to lash out when the Charlton is chosen over him, fists clenching at his sides. When that flash of a smirk and words are spoken in return, the slightly older brother veers with a clipped tone, "You're not welcome in the Mire, Charlton." And with that, he stomps on off clearly pissed.
As he hears the choice being made, Karel lets out a bit of a breath, as he readies that warhammer those that has seen him fight knows he prefers using. His own cloak removed as he moves forward, pausing a few seconds in front of where Hoekenn is sitting to hand over the cloak to his son, wordlessly, before he moves forward to face his opponent in this battle. Offering the Ashwood a bit of a respectful nod, he then looks over to the dais as well.
Aelinor reaches a hand behind her to give Tiaryn an assuring pat, her other arm staying firmly tucked into her brother's. Now her attention draws to Aleister, a little more interested in the going ons now that her cousin is involves.
"Seven bloody hells, he's a traitor, and he doesn't show honour for a penny's worth!" Hareth mutters in a low voice as he hears Rafferdy's decision, straining to keep his deep baritone down although his agitation shows in the way he opens and clenches his fists. He stares at the Lord of Highfield as he readies himself for the fight, then glances at Hoekenn with a worried frown. "Your father will teach him a lesson, that's for sure." Although the shadow of a doubt has found its way into Hareth's blue eyes by now. Turning to the field he mutters, barely audible: "Seven help us…"
Renholdt scoffs loudly, pounding a fist against his thigh and grunting loudly. He is obviously chomping at the bit to speak up about this - maybe call someone some nasty names or say 'fuck' a hundred times like his father - but instead he tilts his head toward his mother to listen to her hissing. Allowing the likely unintentional insults to slide off of him, he reaches out to offer Anathema a comforting pat on the back of one hand. "Yes, and a fucking fool to boot, mother."
<COMBAT> Karel has changed armor to Full maile.
<COMBAT> Karel has changed weapons to Bludgeon.
<COMBAT> Aleister has changed armor to Full Plate.
<COMBAT> Aleister has changed weapons to Polearm.
Hoekenn listens to Hareth and just nods. Keeping silent though fixing his gaze upon Aleister. Studying him and tilting his head a bit. As if seeing something strange. But he doesn't speak. Just acts like that creepy boy that keeps staring.
Rickart polishes off the last of his tankard only to find it immediately refilled as he goes back to downing it at record speeds. One son on trial. The embarassment of a son seeking to defend. Fate of the entire defense upon the head of the bane of House Nayland itself? Oh yeah, he's going to need a fuck-ton more ale.
The Septon steps forward when called as he looks between the two combatants, Champion and Defender. With a nasal tone, the spidery thin man makes a point of clearing his throat before initiating, "By the Blessings of the Seven, we offer up our arms in service to you. So that you might use your divine wisdom to let the victor declare the truth of the accusations lain before us here this afternoon. At this time, we ask that all bow their heads and request the blessings upon these two brave souls who have conscribed their arms in service to adhere to the will of the Seven." With that, the Septon bows his head and awaits others to do the same.
Aeron is still oddly quiet about the choosing. He says literally nothing about it, either the rest of his family has already said more than he could, or he has nothing to say about it at all. One way or another, the matter of Rafferdy will be finished. And either way, most likely be branded one name or another for it. Propping his cheek on his hand, he continues to watch.
"As I said, interesting," Perrin responds out the side of his mouth to Freya in like manner that she spoke to him. When the Septon calls for a bowing of heds, Perrin's immediatly does so. His eyes close as he silently says a prayer to the Seven.
Tyroan bows his head as directed, although he also crosses his arms over his chest. Probably only the Septon can hear his own muttered prayer, which is probably a good thing, especially for the easily-scandalized, "Father Above, judge this fuck-up fairly and justly. Warrior, give the right the strength to kick the everliving fuck out of the other champion."
Looking towards Karel, Aleister offers the other man a respectful incline of his head and when the foot of the dais is reached, he's letting his attention settle upon the Septon for the duration of that blessing. Then, he's simply bowing his head at the end, lips moving silently in his own prayer or blessing or whatever the hell he might be offering.
Rafferdy remains silent. His face does finally seem to have some emotion, and it looks to be a bit of anger. He turns and watches his father instead of the prayer.
Tia reaches to touch Aelinor's hand as it comes back to pat her. She leans forward to say softly, "Did you have any idea he was going to do that?" She can't quite decide if she's impressed at him standing up for Rafferdy or thinking he's an idiot for getting involved. She does pray, though not to those Seven - but to her own gods, and hopefully they are listening. Even with as little power as they seem to have in the south. Her other hand, clasped in Saethwyr's.
Arriving at the beginning of a prayer. Now that was just tacky and cliche and went to prove that perhaps, just perhaps, she wasn't paying attention. Because she wasn't. Aeliana Ashwood's eyes had gone somewhere else and not long after, the color bled away from her face. The lady has one prayer and it's simple and likely not heard beyond her own frowning Septa. "Stranger, take him home."
The Witch glances toward her son at the comforting pat to her hand, and she offers him a grim smile. She whispers something more to her eldest son, and then she turns gaze back out toward the fight as the fully armored Ashwood Lord steps up to face their Champion. Then she presses a faint kiss into her daughter's hair before she returns to rubbing at the rib bone.
Daryl sets his mug aside for the moment, dipping his head a bit to offer his own prayer. After a few moments, eyelids open and he immediately brings ale back into reach, putting away his second drink. He doesn't yet motion for a third, ensuring his line of sight remains unobstructed instead. A look back towards the other Ashwoods and then back unto the field, giving his sister a glance.
Karel keeps his eyes on the people on the dais, until the Septon's blessing. Bowing his own head, his own lips moving in a similar silent prayer or something like that as his opponent. His expression rather neutral and calm at the moment, it would seem.
Aelinor glances behind her to look at Tiaryn and shakes her head. Aeliana's reaction is noticed and now Aelinor responds, "I didn't.. and by Aeliana's reaction he must have decided on the spot." Her light grip on Daryl's arm tightens a bit but she otherwise lets him keep his silence.
Freya sighs - when the prayer occurs she is oddly silent. Not committed to the Seven evidently. But she makes a fist of being inconspicuous. Waiting for the fight.
Tia inclines her head to Aelinor, and then brings her attention over to Aeliana. "Aeliana, come sit with us," she whispers, waving briefly at her. There's room, at the least, enough to squeeze one more noblewoman in. "That does sound like something he would do," she murmurs.
Rickart mumbles something within his tankard, letting out a magnified belch - though his head does lower for a moment for the blessing. Once more he lashes out his arm for a refill, the poor Ale pouring servant looking more than a bit haggard as he struggles to keep up with the Lord of the Mire's thirst.
The Septon lifts his head as the blessings are spoken, once again looking upon both combatants, "Remember you fight with the arms of the Seven. Your victories and losses reflect their judgment." Turning towards Tyroan, the Septon nods his conclusion and backs away to return to his post near the front of Rickart's makeshift dais.
Lifting his head and looking to the Septon, Aleister offers the man another slight incline of his head before he's turning his attention to Karel, "May the Warrior bless you this day, Ser." That's all that he has to say to his opponent and when the words have finished, he's turning to move towards the field, to claim his place upon it and then turn back to settle his gaze upon Karel, the mace coming to be lifted from his shoulders and settled in his hands.
"And you, Ser," Karel offers in return to Aelister's words, nodding to the Septon as well, before he moves over to take his own place on the field, glancing back towards where people are sitting for a few moments, then getting ready for the fighting about to happen.
At the whispered invitation, Aeliana's attention turns towards the benches. Though she doesn't move to sit, instead the Lady moves to stand near her; a polite shake of her head declining the seat. That's her Brother out there, with his mace cradled in his hands. "No need to make room for me, Tia," she whispers, fan spread wide and cradled between long fingers; one can match it's wild sway, perhaps, to her nerves. "I'll be find standing right here." Where there was still room to run. "But thank you." And if her words were devoid of their usual cheeriness well, that's to be expected.
Perrin lingers on his prayers for a moment longer than the Septon has allowed, but prayers are prayers after all. Once finished his head raises slowly and at the same time his eyes open as well. A deep breath is taken in, the stern look returns as first gives Freya and his armsmen a glance before turning once more to the dias and the combatants as they begin to ready themselves.
Tia gives Aeliana a glance, and nods, staying quiet now as things get to the scary - erm - interesting - part. She's seated on a bench, beside Saeth. Aelinor is in front of them, with Daryl. And Aeliana is standing beside Tia, not willing to sit. For those playing along, Aleister is on the fighting field, defending Lord Rafferdy. Folks are seated here and there, watching and drinking, not necessarily in that order. Tia reaches a hand to give a pat to Aeliana's arm, briefly, a gentle warmth in her gaze, before her attention is back on the fight.
Having debated about where to be for some time, Jocelyn found herself in the crowds and bit lost within the throng of people that were gathered. With her handmaiden at her side, and quiet speeching whispering between the two, the young Nayland had eased her way from the crowds and had choosen to remain standing instead of taking a seat.
Moving into the area, Miranda looks first to the 'field of honor' or 'dirt of trials' or whatever it is being used for tonight. Seeing those in contention, one hand lifts to her throat, long fingers not quite resting. Her hand lifts and she touches her lips, concern in her gaze. Finally tearing her eyes from the combatants, she spots her sister and brother along with the newly weds. Moving carefully through the throng, she winds down toward them. When she makes it, after many a gentle, 'Excuse me, please's, she leans forward slightly, "May I join you, please?" That said, her attention divides, part held in reserve to hear the reply while the other part looks again to where the two are intent on doing bodily injury one to thet other.
The Lord of the Mire's mood seems to be souring by the passing minute and the further he gets into his tankard, the grumpier he seems to be getting, "Get it the fuck on already… someone just do me a favor and kill…" his eyes narrow as he looks upon Aleister, clearly annoyed, "Aw fuck, damn Charltons." Sure they are Ashwoods now, but Sevens be damned if Rickart doesn't still think of them the other way. Maybe forgetting he is not quite the Arbiter or perhaps thinking his brother is just taking too damn long to start the trial, he barks out with a gusto, "Fighters… fight!"
Freya gently points out Lady Jocelyn to Lord Perrin thinking her entry might be a point of interest to him. But settles in next to her Lord as the action begins presumably.
<COMBAT> Karel will attack Aleister this turn.
As Perrin stands thee, arms folded across his chest, he scans the throng of people that has shown up for the Trial. First to the right of him and then the left…wait…he spots a face that brings a half smile to him. Just beyond the big guys head that's almost in his way he sees the Lady Jocelyn. For once since coming there his decorum has broken and his gaze lingers for some time. Perhaps seeing if he can cather her eye. But once again the elder armsmen watches Perrin and after a time clears his throat. To which he does look and gets the nod to watch the Trial and not the crowd, even if he knows who Perrin was looking at.
<COMBAT> Aleister will attack Karel this turn.
<COMBAT> Aleister has changed stance to Defensive.
<COMBAT> Karel has changed stance to defensive.
Daryl hears a familiar voice. Turning, the nobleman spots Miranda, and with his free arm, (Aelinor clings to the other,) he motions her over. "Watch," he instructs, motioning his head towards the battle about to commence. "Okay, another." He says, motioning for another ale. No way he's keeping up with the Lord of the Mire, but the man's thirsty. Green hues lock onto Aleister, letting out another exhale and giving one final look to Aeliana, his countenance stern. There's a nod. Game on then.
Having his own little prayer finished before the septon even raised his voice, Hareth glances back and forth between the two champions, one his superior, the recently appointed replacement for Ser Bruce Longbough - the other a Lord of a noble branch of the enemy, House Charlton. And although the recent siege of Stonebridge was ended by Lord Walder Frey, certain old habits and animosities are hard to be put aside that easily. Hareth takes a deep breath as Lord Rickart calls for the champions to start the fighting, his gaze leaves Karel and Aleister only for a short glance of concern at Hoekenn.
Nodding a little bit as he hears the call to fight, Karel readies his hammer, starting to circle a bit around, before he swings the weapon for his opponent, as if testing him with the first blow now. Ready to get back out of range as soon as needed.
Looking to Rickart as the man begins to speak, there's naught but a hint of a chuckle the emerges from Aleister and when the call for the fight to begin comes, he's turning to look back towards Karel. He begins to circle opposite his opponent and when the man comes in to swing that testing blow at him, Aleister is trying to sidestep, even as his own weapon is swung in return.
<COMBAT> Phoenix has started the combat! Pose and pick your first action.
<COMBAT> Karel attacks Aleister with Bludgeon - ARMOR on Chest stops the attack!
<COMBAT> Aleister attacks Karel with Polearm but Karel DODGES!
<COMBAT> Phoenix has started a new turn. Pose and choose your action.
The whispers in her ear helped to know where to look and what to look for. She hadnt arrived on time and was still learning what exactly was going on. Grim, obviously, with the current situation Iulia points in a direction and she looks upon Aliester. Frim expression moved to sour and then full frown. A single nod before looking ober at Rickart and his yelling. Holding her breath and not even realizing it, Iulia is tugging on her Lady's arm sleeve again and then pointing in a new direction. Turning her head she sees Perrin off to the side of her. She looks between the Trail and then Perrin, only hesitating briefly before moving in the direction of Perrin, pausing when she reaches his side.
Nodding to Daryl, Miranda eases to that side and sits, beside him. She takes the offered arm, her hand warm and only a faint tremble betraying her inner fear. Her face is calm, slthough her eyes are wide as she watches the fight commence. Okay, her hand squeezes her brother's arm as things get underway, and she flickers a glance across to Aelinor, then refocuses on Aliester.
That fan is going to snap in the Aeliana's hand because her grip had turned white as the combatants take their move. Daryl is ignored. Everyone else, except for the brief touch on her arm. That brought her eyes up to Tiaryn for a moment; appreciation in her eyes, but then…back to Aleister, where the rattle of that blow against his chest has her muttering low beneath her breath. Odds are, they're words the lady probably shouldn't know.
Hoekenn is focused on Aleister still. Glancing to his father only once before looking at Aleister. All else seeming to be lost to him for the moment. A hand upon the knife that hangs from his hip. Not seeming angry or anything. Just holding to feel comfort. Nothing but Aleister is noticed or cared about. Even as the battle begins he keeps his eyes on the movements of the Ashwood.
Managing to get out of the swing from the Ashwood, Karel moves back a little, circling a little further. Carefully studying his opponent for any sign of what the man's about to do, he moves in with another swing of his weapon now. And as the last time, it seems to be the swing and get back out of range again.
She has totally been here the whole time, watching everything that may or may not have been going on. But a fight now occurring between Aleister and Karel? "Oh, Ceinlys is going to kill me," Katrin whispers to herself as she stands in the crowd to watch. She's flanked by Septa and maid.
The downside of Aleister's weapon is the ramp up time for the swing and it shows; for as he begins that attack, Karel's hammer is sounding off the chestplate of his armor, jarring Aleister's movements enough that his attack misses. There's the hint of a grunt that sounds in his throat and a narrowing of his eyes as he regards his opponent. When Karel again begins to move in for that strike, the Ashwood Lord is once more moving to try and sidestep, his arms swinging the massive mace towards his opponents upper body.
Just as Perrin turns back the fight has started. Impassivly he watches that is till he senses, more than seeing, someone coming to stand next to him. He cuts his eyes and spies Jocelyn. That half grim returns "M'Lady Jocelyn," he says so softly. "I didn't think you would come," all spoken from the corner of his mouth. Postion and proprierty must be maintained it would seem and Perrin keeps both in mind. He lets his hand drop to his side though.
Tyroan glances back at his elder brother as part of his role is usurped, his lips twisting in a further grimace, and then as the two champions engage one another, he circles around the front of the crowd, stopping in front of Hoekenn and Hareth to nod to the guard and briefly clap the youth on one shoulder and offer what is undoubtedly intended to be an encouraging smile but is more like a grimace, and then continues on. He moves to sit between Anathema and Renholdt, grumbling under his breath again, "What a fucking fiasco."
<COMBAT> Karel attacks Aleister with Bludgeon but Aleister DODGES!
<COMBAT> Aleister attacks Karel with Polearm but Karel DODGES!
<COMBAT> Phoenix has started a new turn. Pose and choose your action.
Rafferdy turns to watch the fight. He doesn't react to any of the blows given or taken. He does, however, take a moment to look out into the crowd once more, and then back at the battle.
Freya curtseys deeply as Lady Jocelyn approaches. But merely watches the fight and quietly listens to their conversation.
Daryl watches the first blows strike, not flinching a bit. As Miranda flanks his other side, Daryl realizes how much harder it is to drink. But, where there's a will, there's a way. Carefully raising his drink, he archs his elbow enough to have it meet his lips. However, as another round of blows is dealt, he does spill slightly. And there may be a few drops on Aelinor's head. "Sorry," he mutters, ever focused on the trial by combat.
The hand from Tyroan on his shoulder and the attempt of an encouraging smile only briefly get Hoekenn's attention as he nods to the man and then looks around for some reason before settling his gaze on Aleister again.
Her eyes were glued to the trail once she stopped moving, bitting the inside of her lower lip and watching nervously. Watching as the first blows strike, there is a small soft wince and it causes Jocelyn to lower her eyes downword. The movement made her see Freya curtsey to her and a tiny smile is offered and then an inclining of her head in way of greeting. "I suppose I had to come. Family, I couldnt miss this. I would regret it later if I had not."
Drawing in a slow breath as the first blows are sent, Miranda hardly notices her brother's drinking problem. Only when he speaks to Aelinor does she glance that way. Removing her hand from his arm, she clasps both of hers in her lap, attention once more turning to the battle below. A fan. If only she had thought to bring one. Luckily, the ever vigilant Eva; Miranda's maid and companion, has more on the ball this day than her charge. A fan is offered and Miranda accepts it with a tightly grateful smile and a murmered "Thank you." The fan is flipped open and Miranda uses it to half hide behind. Eva faded back a bit to stand with others of her station while Miranda watches above the fan's upper arch.
Once again managing to get out of the way of any incoming blow, Karel moves a bit to the side, trying to get into another good position to strike at Aleister. This time swinging a bit lower, aiming for the legs or so of his opponent. And like before trying to avoid getting caught by any incoming hits.
<COMBAT> Aleister will attack Karel this turn. Options: called=Head
This time, Aleister was prepared for Karel's incoming blow, but it comes at the cost of his own strike being avoided as well. Gauntleted fingers curl a little more tightly upon the shaft of his mace and when the other Knight advances upon him once more, he's swinging his weapon higher this time, perhaps trying to daze and stun his opponent.
His attention shifting for a moment to the current Steward of Stonebridge as he joins the spectators on the benches, Hareth returns Tyroan's nod and replies "Indeed, ser." to his grumbling remark with a weak smile. His gaze quickly returns to the fighting, the opponents being quite an even match, apparently.
<COMBAT> Karel attacks Aleister with Bludgeon but Aleister DODGES!
<COMBAT> Aleister attacks Karel with Polearm but Karel DODGES!
<COMBAT> Phoenix has started a new turn. Pose and choose your action.
<COMBAT> Aleister has changed stance to normal.
<COMBAT> Karel will attack Aleister this turn. Options: called=head
Tia watches quietly, her gaze going to Miranda as she arrives, but for the moment quiet. As blows start, Tia's gaze never leaves the battlefield. This is no tourney though, and she cannot help but worry.
Swings are taken, most are dodged or missed. Save the one from Karel to the breast plate of Aleister's. Perrin has been in battle and often it goes like this. Impassive remains his features, but there is a slight nod of his head to the softly spoken words "Yes, you would have. But the Seven will see that justice shall prevail." He says once more to Jocelyn, his eyes not leaving the combatants as the trial continues. A deep breath is taken in, held, his eyes cut to Jocely for a split second, then the breath is let out slowly.
Ducking down a bit this time, Karel manages to avoid the incoming swing this time. "In case you don't know, Ser. That was not a bow," he comments as he brings his own weapons up in an attempt to hit the Ashwood in the head now.
And so .. another round comes and goes in which Aleister manages to both avoid the blow that comes from him, while missing his own in return. This time, though, the Ashwood Lord gives up the circling dance and chooses to advance directly towards Karel; to meet the man's incoming blow, even as his weapon is hefted a little higher and then swung once more in the direction of the other Knight, "And here I thought you were yielding already, Ser."
<COMBAT> Karel attacks Aleister with Bludgeon - ARMOR on Head stops the attack!
<COMBAT> Aleister attacks Karel with Polearm - NEAR MISS!
<COMBAT> Phoenix has started a new turn. Pose and choose your action.
Aeliana's fan is gripped firm yet between her fingers, though it has stilled. Like much of her, has stilled. She's not standing quite so far back anymore either, but rather, she's takes a few steps forward as well, closer to the bottom row on the benches. Closer. Hardly much at all, compared to where they fight, but enough perhaps as the girl watches with stoic features.
Another couple swings, another close call, and Daryl forsakes his mug, letting it fall beside as teeth grit, almost willing the Lord of Highfield to strike true. A look to the elder of his two sisters, a brow raise at the fanning, before he refocuses on the fight. "C'mon, cousin." May be heard quietly.
<COMBAT> Aleister will attack Karel this turn. Options: called=Chest
Freya looks briefly at Jocelyn sympathetically thinking the poor Lady can only lose here - either a valued votary of her house or a family member. That is just before her eyes go back to the fight.
Watching the Champion and Defender dance back and forth with near hits but a ton of misses, Rickart seems to be clearly getting bored, "I'm not near fucking drunk enough for this," he grumbles looking back to his servant, "More." With as much as he has already consumed, the Lord of the Mire must have the constitution of some deity. Despite the bloodshot look of his eyes and the cloud of body-sweat booze that fills the air around him, there's little other sign of the amounts he has already consumed.
For all his own worth, the Septon seems a little relieved there is only minimal contact so far - cringing each time a weapon does manage to connect with armor.
A fan may hide many things. A smile. A frown. Fear. Worry. In Miranda's case, there is no reason yet for the first in the list and many reasons for the rest. She darts Daryl a glance over the fan, then looks back again. Her slight nod echoes his soft comment and as the fight continues, she snaps the fan closed and lowers it to her lap, unwilling to bother or distract her brother at the moment. She inhales slightly, then releases the breath as tension mounts with each swing.
Karel is unable to hold back a bit of a chuckle at Aleister's words. "I don't know how it is where you learned to fight, but where I learned it, we learned that in order to make someone yield, you'd need to hit him, at least." Swinging once more for the other man's head, he also does his best to keep moving a bit, making himself a harder target.
Remaining silent now, Jocelyn moves her gaze back to the trail with her lips firmly set in a hard line. Body tense, it seems to only tense even more every time an attach is pointed towards one. Her eyes move with the fighters, watching every move that they do. Hearing Rickarts grumbling, her head seemed to nod in agreement, whether she meant that to be noticed or not. Feeling Perrins eyes on her again, her head turns and she tilts her head back to look at him. Raises both her eyebrows at him, a touch of a grin is spreading her flat lined lips. "I should move closer to my family." she murmurs to him and just like that shes moving towards the benches that she saw father gathered on earlier.
When Karel's hammer connects with the leviathan helm upon Aleister's head, it's with a resounding clunk and a sharp grunt that escapes the Ashwood Lord. He's staggered for a moment, too, his swing going wide and there's a second in which he's forced to steady himself from the ringing that no doubt comes to his ears. His opponents retort draws the hint of a chuckle and a quipped, "Perhaps you are right," and then he's advancing once more, his weapon swinging in the direction of Karel's torso this time.
<COMBAT> Karel attacks Aleister with Bludgeon - Moderate wound to Neck (Reduced by Armor).
<COMBAT> Aleister attacks Karel with Polearm - Light wound to Right Hand (Reduced by Armor).
<COMBAT> Phoenix has started a new turn. Pose and choose your action.
Aeliana made a small sound then and not because the fan snapped in her hand, it hasn't yet. But watching anyone take a swing at her brother's head was enough to put the faintest of little trembles to her frame. Apparently she's not such a frigid bitch after all.
As Jocelyn moves to sit closer to her family, Perrin bows slightly then lets his eyes linger on hers for a moment as his features soften "M'Lady, be well." This is not the time or place to say much more and even if it was she had alredy left. Once more his arms are folded across his chest as his eyes continue to watch the combatants again. When both hit, some might flinch or gringe, but he does neither. Just that same stern look comes to him once more.
While working on dodging out of the way of any incoming hits, Karel doesn't fully evade the other man's hit as he's caught in one hand. There's a few brief moments of moving the fingers of that right hand, before he moves forward again. Once more aiming high.
<COMBAT> Aleister will attack Karel this turn.
Freya curtseys as Lady Jocelyn leaves and moves to stand closer to the side of her Liege lord to watch the combat. She watches biting down on her knuckle for a short while. Occasionally looking away.
Karel's blow strikes true this time, causing the neck protector of Aleister's armor to crumple beneath the blow, creasing in against his skin and causing the man to wince at the bite of metal. But, he's not finished yet and his own blow had struck true and as such, Aleister is once more hefting his weapon and again he's advancing on Karel as he puts more force into the swing of his weapon this time.
<COMBAT> Karel attacks Aleister with Bludgeon - Light wound to Head (Reduced by Armor).
<COMBAT> Aleister attacks Karel with Polearm - Moderate wound to Chest (Reduced by Armor).
<COMBAT> Phoenix has started a new turn. Pose and choose your action.
<COMBAT> Karel will attack Aleister this turn.
Daryl continues to stare towards the fray even as blows collide, and his cool demeanor seems to be fading, slowly but surely. Aelinor is pulled closer just a touch, and the eldest nods a bit to both of his siblings to see how they're doing watching the combat.
Getting caught in the chest this time, Karel moves a bit backwards, letting out a few deep breaths before he once more advances for Aleister, this time moving in a little more cautiously. But swinging just as steadily as before.
A breath, and then another, as Tia watches. "I hate this part," she murmurs. She keeps watch on Aeliana, since she's standing there, but she doesn't say anything more.
There's that ringing again in Aleister's ears and this time, it comes with a slight shake of his head. His helm is certainly taking a beating, but it's holding up and at least protecting his head .. for the most part. Shifting that two handed mace in his hands, he watches Karel a moment before moving forward to meet that man's swing with one of his own.
For her part, Miranda is sitting ramrod straight, eyes glued to the fray. When both blows land, her hand once more rises, fan's edge just resting at her collarbone. She presses her lips together, glance flashing to Daryl and Aelinor, then to Aeliana, then quickly back to Tiaryn and Saeth only to flash forward again as the fighting continues. Now, it is her turn to softly murmer, "Come on, cousin…"
<COMBAT> Karel attacks Aleister with Bludgeon but Aleister DODGES!
<COMBAT> Aleister attacks Karel with Polearm but Karel DODGES!
<COMBAT> Phoenix has started a new turn. Pose and choose your action.
<COMBAT> Karel attacks Aleister with Bludgeon but Aleister DODGES!
<COMBAT> Aleister attacks Karel with Polearm but Karel DODGES!
<COMBAT> Phoenix has started a new turn. Pose and choose your action.
Swing and dodge, that seems to be the main strategy for Karel at the moment. Try to hit, but also make yourself a harder target to hit. The second part seems to work well for him, as he manages to avoid incoming hits, although he's not managing to hit his opponent either at the moment. But he's still moving in to try getting those hits that can end this done.
The trembling had stopped at least, so had her fan for that matter, in so much that Aeliana stood now in absolute stillness with a white knuckled grip on the slender little bit of finery that was her fan. Shoulders squared, spine straight. Both Septa and handmaiden flanking her yet, though the former seems poised to attention incase the lady decides to do anything rash.
The fact the Aleister's opponent is seemingly evenly matched, skill wise, is making this fight more of a dance, for as he swings, Al is moving, only to return the favor with the same results. There's an irritated grunt that sounds in Al's throat and he's once again swinging his weapon at the Nayland Champion.
As the fighting continues, some hits and many dodges attest to the skill of both fighters. A sinlge brow rises as Perrin watches the two, the foot work, weapon work, it all matters in a fight. He gives Freya a glance as she has moved a bit closer to him, and she recives the barests of nods before he turns back to the combat. Not a word is spoken to her, time for talk will occur later it would seem.
<COMBAT> Karel attacks Aleister with Bludgeon but Aleister DODGES!
<COMBAT> Aleister attacks Karel with Polearm - Light wound to Chest (Reduced by Armor).
<COMBAT> Phoenix has started a new turn. Pose and choose your action.
<COMBAT> Karel attacks Aleister with Bludgeon and MISSES!
<COMBAT> Aleister attacks Karel with Polearm - ARMOR on Abdomen stops the attack!
<COMBAT> Phoenix has started a new turn. Pose and choose your action.
<COMBAT> Karel has changed stance to normal.
<COMBAT> Karel will attack Aleister this turn. Options: called=head
Karel seems to be a bit tired of not hitting, but taking a few hits. So now he moves with a little less caution, and aims his strikes for the head of his opponent again.
This time, Aleister manages to strike a blow without being struck in return, though his subsequent attack doesn't yield the same result, drawing a growl from the man's throat and a shake of his head. As Karel begins to give up his defensive posture, Aleister retains his aggressive one, advancing on the other Knight to meet his blow with one of his own.
<COMBAT> Karel attacks Aleister with Bludgeon - Light wound to Head (Reduced by Armor).
<COMBAT> Aleister attacks Karel with Polearm - Moderate wound to Chest (Reduced by Armor).
<COMBAT> Phoenix has started a new turn. Pose and choose your action.
<COMBAT> Karel attacks Aleister with Bludgeon and MISSES!
<COMBAT> Aleister attacks Karel with Polearm - Light wound to Chest (Reduced by Armor).
<COMBAT> Phoenix has started a new turn. Pose and choose your action.
<COMBAT> Karel will attack Aleister this turn.
Only getting a minor hit in, while taking a few hits to his chest again now, Karel steps back for a few moments to recover, before he moves forward again now. This time only swinging for Aleister, not any particular part of the man.
There's another of those ringing blows as Karel's hammer finds his helmet and again, the metal holds together, absorbing the majority of the blow and saving Aleister from serious harm. But, it's got him a bit on edge and he's trying to meet the man a little more aggressive, his weapon swinging sharply from left to right towards the center of the Nayland Champion's body.
Freya shoots Perrin a weak smile as he looks at her and goes back to watching the combat. Not sure exactly what the protocol is.
<COMBAT> Karel attacks Aleister with Bludgeon but Aleister DODGES!
<COMBAT> Aleister attacks Karel with Polearm - ARMOR on Chest stops the attack!
<COMBAT> Phoenix has started a new turn. Pose and choose your action.
<COMBAT> Karel attacks Aleister with Bludgeon - ARMOR on Chest stops the attack!
<COMBAT> Aleister attacks Karel with Polearm - Serious wound to Chest (Reduced by Armor).
<COMBAT> Phoenix has started a new turn. Pose and choose your action.
<COMBAT> Karel has changed stance to defensive.
With the last hit from Aleister to his father, Hoekenn winces. Clenching his fists and studying the fighting. Concern showing on his face.
This time taking a bit of a heavier hit to his chest, Karel steps back a bit again, grimacing a bit as he recovers from the hit. Going back to his more cautious approach again now as he moves in for another attack.
As the blows and misses continue with armor ringing to announce hits, Miranda eases a bit forward on the bench she shares with her siblings. The fan lifts again, snapping open to flutter briefly before it is lowered again. She flashes a glance to the fellow toward the front then looks to her cousin where she stands. The hand not holding the fan before her clenches in a terribly unladylike fist in her lap, the tension within held there for now.
This time, Aleister manages to come with a clean hit upon his opponent, while receiving none and return and when Karel shifts back to a more cautious stance, there's naught but a slight nod of the Ashwood Lord's head. He doesn't hold back, though, for he continues that aggressive advance upon Karel, seeking to meet the other man's attacks with that of his own.
<COMBAT> Karel attacks Aleister with Bludgeon but Aleister DODGES!
<COMBAT> Aleister attacks Karel with Polearm - Moderate wound to Abdomen (Reduced by Armor).
<COMBAT> Phoenix has started a new turn. Pose and choose your action.
<COMBAT> Karel attacks Aleister with Bludgeon and MISSES!
<COMBAT> Aleister attacks Karel with Polearm - Light wound to Abdomen (Reduced by Armor).
"Yes!" Came the somewhat venom filled hiss from the little Ashwood on the end as Aeliana watched the melee. Not…so stiff anymore, she'd finally relaxed and looked, at last, to be enjoying herself. S'always easier, when the blood's on someone else's hands.
<COMBAT> Phoenix has started a new turn. Pose and choose your action.
Tia continues to watch, leaning forward a bit. She has no fan in hand, the harpist not usually carrying such a thing. Her maid and guard have settled back with the others of their stations. And as the blows continue to fall, she winces with each one, blue eyes darkened by the emotions within. Somehow it doesn't seem to matter who gets hit.
Of all those gathered to observe, Nedra had been bearing witness quietly in the company of her Septa and armsmen, her expression a mask of careful neutrality. it is only when Aeliana moves to stand that Nedra moves as well, moving silently past those already seated in the way until she touches one hand lightly against Aeliana's elbow, lending silent support for her friend without needing to say anything aloud. Arriving just in time to hear the little hiss of sound from Aeliana as she turns her attention back to the matter at hand.
"There-we-go, there-we-go," Daryl roots on his cousin quietly, as the trial of combat turns into a more personal matter. His free hand finds Miranda's for a reassuring squeeze. "He know's what he's doing." Then he watches oncemore, eyes glued to the combat. "…You okay, Aelie?" Comes a soft whisper.
Getting hit a few more times, without managing to hit, Karel grimaces a bit more, taking a few more moments to get himself together. But he still keeps on swinging for the Ashwood, although it's easy to see that it's taking him a bit more effort now.
Aelinor is pretty much just settled quietly watching. At Daryl's question she peers towards him and offers a faint smile, "I'm quite alright." she insists, her hand, though, still holds securely to his arm. A touch tighter than usual.
Tia gives Nedra a smile, as the other woman comes to lend some more support to Aeliana. She's seated, but just to Aeliana's other side, within touching reach of Aeliana. Saethwyr is staying quiet. She can hear the whispers of her new kin, as they speak softly to each other, and it at least brings a little easing of the lump that's halfway up her throat, pretending to be part of her voicebox instead of her heart.
Turning her hand, Miranda squeezes Daryl's gratefully. She nods to his assertion that their cousin knows what he is doing. Her brother wins a soft smile, though the woman does not look away from the fight. "He does, thank the Seven." Her murmer is low and warm, edged still with concern. Finally, she darts Aelinor a quick, albeit brief smile.
Again, Aleister comes out ahead in that particular round and when Karel holds his ground, there's a quick laugh that begins to sound past the metal of the helmet, "Well done, Ser." But, he doesn't back down. Not when he's found himself succesful and as such, he advances again on the Nayland Champion, to offer another series of attempted blows, "Yield, Ser. There is no shame in such a thing."
<COMBAT> Karel attacks Aleister with Bludgeon - ARMOR on Abdomen stops the attack!
<COMBAT> Aleister attacks Karel with Polearm - Moderate wound to Chest (Reduced by Armor).
<COMBAT> Phoenix has started a new turn. Pose and choose your action.
<COMBAT> Karel has been KO'd!
The sudden touch against the curve of her arm, has her all but jolting out of her skin and for a moment, until she realized who was touching her, it had looked like a particularly agressive stance she'd taken too. Upon recognition of Nedra, however, Aeliana relaxes again and resumes her watching of the pair on the field. The difference? Now she looks like a cat with a bowl of cream instead of someone fretting moment by moment.
Rafferdy finally reacts for the first time to the fight. When Aleister offers quarter, there is a small piece of relief that crosses his face.
<COMBAT> Karel spends a luck point to keep fighting!
<COMBAT> Aleister will attack Karel this turn.
<COMBAT> Karel will attack Aleister this turn.
<COMBAT> Karel has changed stance to Aggressive.
Nedra returns Tia's smile with one of her own, the look of worry in her eyes wars with the carefully neutral expression on her face, but both the smile and the worry are genuine as she lifts her gaze towards Aeliana's face in time to see the shift from ne stance to the other and reads the moment of recognition. The same glimpse of a smile is shared with Aeliana before again she glances around, this time seeing more than one familiar face and hearing Aeliana's brother offering Ser Karel a chance to yield.
The elder armsmen of Perrin's moves close to the side of Perrin and leans to his ear "It's over my Lord." And the older man, perhaps one that has been with him since childhood puts a firm hand on his shoulder and gives it a squeeze. Perrin nods "Yes, it's over. The seven have made their judgement and we shall abide by it." But! Just as the of them had counted Karel out the man returns to the fight. Now there is a bit of surpise on his face momentairly "Well, maybe it's not over just yet."
Getting caught by that hit to the chest again, Karel sinks to his knees, staying there for a few moments as he seems to mobilize his energy now. "I may be getting old, Ser. But I'm still not done," he offers, getting to his feet and moving more aggressively now. Some would probably call it more desperately.
As blows begin to hit and connect one after another, Rickart continues to watch. He plows through one tankard after the next with a near bottomless flow of ale. When the Champion of House Nayland goes down, he rises slightly from his chair - only to flop back into it again with a solid *thunk* once Karel gets up again, "Fuck 'em hard!" Yes, who he's cheering on at this point might just be anyone's guess.
<COMBAT> Karel attacks Aleister with Bludgeon - Critical wound to Neck (Reduced by Armor).
<COMBAT> Aleister attacks Karel with Polearm - ARMOR on Chest stops the attack!
<COMBAT> Phoenix has started a new turn. Pose and choose your action.
<COMBAT> Aleister has changed stance to Normal.
Freya can't believe the stubborness of the knights, "Does he want to get himself killed?" she whispers in relation to Karel. Maybe perrin hears it maybe not.
When Aleister's blow forces Karel to his knee's, the Ashwood Lord takes a half step back, offering the man the opportunity to either yield of rise and when the latter is chosen, there's a respectful nod and a quick, "Very well." He doesn't advance on the other knight. Not until he's risen and makes his own approach and it's then that Aleister is lunging forward once more, that large mace again being swung at the man's center mass. This time, he's not so lucky and Karel's hammer finds it's home upon the plating that protects his neck, sinking the metal in sharply against the point where his neck melds into his shoulders. A pained gasp comes to bare and there's a slight stagger to the side, but he manages to hold his ground. This time, he's not so aggressive in his advance upon the other man, but there's still fight left in him.
"…fuck." Is Aeliana's sudden change in demeanor, bottom lip tucked between her teeth, fan snapped there between her fingers as her weight shifts on a startled step back, much as that her brother had taken. So much for relief. So much for watching her mouth, too. Another tiny little step taken forward.
This time it's Karel being the aggressive one, it would seem. Since he once again goes for the aggressive swing now, recovering a bit from the hit that his armor managed to absorb.
<COMBAT> Karel attacks Aleister with Bludgeon but Aleister DODGES!
A shake of his head before Perrin glances to Freya "No, Mistress Caul. He doesn't want to get himself killed. He is fighting for honor and justice. One will do what one must," he explains never taking his eyes off the fight. But the blow to Aleister's neck does force Perrin's forhead to wrinkle, that was a hard hit.
<COMBAT> Aleister attacks Karel with Polearm - ARMOR on Chest stops the attack!
<COMBAT> Phoenix has started a new turn. Pose and choose your action.
<COMBAT> Karel attacks Aleister with Bludgeon but Aleister DODGES!
<COMBAT> Aleister attacks Karel with Polearm - Moderate wound to Right Arm (Reduced by Armor).
<COMBAT> Phoenix has started a new turn. Pose and choose your action.
"By the seven. Just finish it, cousin." Daryl breathes after the big hit Aleister takes. Teeth gritted oncemore, he almost looks angry, tense as if any moment he was ready to leap up and charge the field.
At first, Miranda seemed to sigh with relief when Karl is forced to his knees. She almost smiles, though the expression dies when he rises and carries the attack forward once more. Her eyes flutter closed for a moment as a prayer to the Seven is whispered. Then her eyes open again and she watches, wincing when Aliester is caught again. Or is it at Aeliana's exclimation? More than likely, both.
Aleister's movements are little more lethargic then they were before, but thankfully that seems to be mirrored in his opponent. Managing to dodge the attacks that come at him and landing only one of his own, Aleister is again advancing upon the man, his weapon swinging towards his opponent, even as he fights against the rising tide of pain, "Yield, Ser."
Nedra reaches out one hand again to lightly take hold of Aeliana's arm, not to restrain her friend but more to remind Aeliana where she's standing, her lips moving in a quiet murmur.
Karel takes that hit to the arm, wincing a bit as he moves forward again. "Why don't you yield instead, Ser." One more swing, just as aggressively now.
<COMBAT> Karel attacks Aleister with Bludgeon but Aleister DODGES!
<COMBAT> Aleister attacks Karel with Polearm - Moderate wound to Chest (Reduced by Armor).
<COMBAT> Phoenix has started a new turn. Pose and choose your action.
<COMBAT> Karel attacks Aleister with Bludgeon - ARMOR on Chest stops the attack!
<COMBAT> Aleister attacks Karel with Polearm - ARMOR on Abdomen stops the attack!
<COMBAT> Phoenix has started a new turn. Pose and choose your action.
Neither one is in a position to force the other to yield at the moment it would seem and through the pain, Aleister manages to offer a broken chuckle and a quick, "Not yet ready for that .." While he manages to avoid the first blow, he's slow on the uptake for the second, but his armor thankfully absorbs the worst of it. Still, he fights on, keeping those swings coming at Karel as he begins to try and end this.
"Right," Karel gets out as he hears Aleister's words, offering a bit of a pained grin. "Me neither." Taking a few more hits to his chest and abdomen region, he still moves forward in an attempt to knock out the Ashwood Lord now.
OOC: From here on poses are missing. Feel free to add if you have them!
<COMBAT> Karel attacks Aleister with Bludgeon - ARMOR on Right Arm stops the attack!
<COMBAT> Aleister attacks Karel with Polearm - Moderate wound to Chest (Reduced by Armor).
<COMBAT> Phoenix has started a new turn. Pose and choose your action.
<COMBAT> Karel attacks Aleister with Bludgeon but Aleister DODGES!
<COMBAT> Aleister attacks Karel with Polearm - ARMOR on Chest stops the attack!
<COMBAT> Phoenix has started a new turn. Pose and choose your action.
<COMBAT> Karel attacks Aleister with Bludgeon but Aleister DODGES!
<COMBAT> Aleister attacks Karel with Polearm - ARMOR on Chest stops the attack!
<COMBAT> Phoenix has started a new turn. Pose and choose your action.
<COMBAT> Karel attacks Aleister with Bludgeon but Aleister DODGES!
<COMBAT> Aleister attacks Karel with Polearm - Light wound to Chest (Reduced by Armor).
<COMBAT> Phoenix has started a new turn. Pose and choose your action.
<COMBAT> Karel attacks Aleister with Bludgeon and MISSES!
<COMBAT> Aleister attacks Karel with Polearm - Light wound to Abdomen (Reduced by Armor).
<COMBAT> Phoenix has started a new turn. Pose and choose your action.
<COMBAT> Karel attacks Aleister with Bludgeon but Aleister DODGES!
<COMBAT> Aleister attacks Karel with Polearm - Serious wound to Chest (Reduced by Armor).
<COMBAT> Phoenix has started a new turn. Pose and choose your action.
<COMBAT> Karel has been KO'd!
<COMBAT> Gnome has stopped the combat.
